


The Sweetest Blow

by lolahardy



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Drabble, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-23
Updated: 2012-12-23
Packaged: 2017-11-22 02:09:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/604649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lolahardy/pseuds/lolahardy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Smoking Kink. That is all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sweetest Blow

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this](http://lolahardy.tumblr.com/post/30358394080/dontbesillyo-rebloggin-smokey-tom-joe-cos-i) and [this](http://lolahardy.tumblr.com/post/30293932183/onewhositswiththeturtles-mybbjohnblake) and encouraged by mybbjohnblake (princess-joseph). I wanted to make it a lot longer but I couldn’t extend it much more without making it drag out. So it’s a ficlet. And I think it’s okay.

It had been a long exhausting day. Arthur trudged up the hall, his coat in one hand, his messanger bag in the other, nearly dragging it, not really giving a fuck it was Gaultier as he it bumped from the floor, against his ankle. 

At the moment, he wanted to drop it and his coat and himself and hoped someone would find him in the hallway and be kind enough to drag him to his room. 

When he finally reached his door, he took out his room key from his wallet after slinging the bag over his shoulder and removing the wallet from his coat and slid it in, pushing the handle down and stepped in. Immediately he heard more then just the dull hum of air conditioning, but the distant sound of Paris below and soft gusting wind carrying in the scent of food, of the city and of...smoke.

Arthur raised an eyebrow as he finally dropped his bag onto the first available flat surface and walked towards the back of the room as he saw the terrace doors opened. He wondered if it was some kind of break in or some forgetfulness on his part until he saw a distinguished loafer with an obnoxious salmon colored sock. 

Eames.

He sighed, throwing his coat on the bed as he trudged towards the door, not really in the mood to deal with whatever nonsense Eames had planned. He just wanted dinner and a bed. Nothing else. As he stepped out, he saw Eames lounging on the sofa, one arm up on the back of it, the other holding a cigarette, one ankle crossed on his knee. While they had been seeing each other for some time, Arthur worked hard on getting him out of those second hand atrocious he often insisted on wearing and getting him in designer, better tailored suits. It worked out well for the both of them, Arthur loving how it accented Eames' size and Eames when he realized a well tailored suit turned Arthur to no end. However, the one thing Arthur couldn't get him to shake were the socks. Now and then he would see a hint of black and gray striped socks, argyle in any shade, solid reds, greens or blues and of course, salmon. He hated it and tried to tell Eames he ruined the effect but he would scoff and tell him no one but him would see his socks, what difference did it make. 

Arthur sighed as he leaned against the door frame as he said,

"Eames, how did you get in my room?"

Eames looked up at him with a smile, expelling a slow cloud of smoke that tumbled from his mouth.

"Told the front desk I locked myself out of my suite and my husband was at work still."

Arthur narrowed his eyes at him, trying his best to be angry but he was too tired and immediately gave up and he sat beside him, slowly crumbling until he had his head on his lap. Eames moved his leg, putting both feet on the ground as he saw Arthur turning his head, looking up at him with a sigh, his eyes closed, ankles up on the arm rest as he crossed his hands on top of his stomach.

"You've been waiting all day to do that haven't you?"

Arthur nodded, words becoming too much effort now. 

He wanted to sleep here, knowing Eames would finish his cigarette and carry him to bed, taking the opportunity to strip him down to nothing since he was too tired to argue or resist and climb into bed beside him. But he opened his eyes instead and looked up at Eames, seeing the scruff along his jaw, his chin, going down his neck. He hadn't shaved from where ever he had been before he showed up in Paris and broke into his room. He would ask him where he was later, but now, he just admired the shape of his face, the soft skin above the scruff and then down his neck to the white shirt he unbuttoned to his chest. It was one of the Valentino shirts Arthur insisted on and he would later wince at the mistreatment of the bunched sleeves and stink of cigarette smoke. 

It was quiet for a little while, Arthur dozing in and out of consciousness and it felt like hours rolled by when it was just seconds at a time. He snapped out of his latest doze when he felt Eames' hand on his.

"We should go to bed, pet. You've been knocking out on my lap for the past couple of minutes."

Arthur nodded as Eames almost finished his cigarette as he looked down at Arthur, offering the nearly done stick.

"Drag?"

Arthur shook his head.

"Too much effort."

Eames smiled as he took the final pull and inhaled as he leaned over, his free hand coming up to Arthur's chin, making him tip his head up as he covered his mouth with his own, slowly exhaling the smoke. Arthur was caught off guard at first but then slowly melted, breathing in through his nose as Eames then pulled away, wisps of smoke trailing from his lips as Arthur closed his mouth for a moment then exhaled, gray translucent ribbons floating up and dissolving into the night sky.

"There's a love."

Arthur couldn't help but smile as he closed his eyes, the taste of tobacco and Eames now on his mouth.

"Take me to bed now."

"As you wish."

Eames only extended his arm over to put out the cigarette in the small ashtray on the empty side of him as he then helped Arthur up, scooping him up in his arms and carrying him inside.

"The things I do for you."

Arthur let his head turn to his shoulder as he smiled.


End file.
